Chapter 18
Athena returned to her situation room to find Elyan Bach sitting by Agent Shoops, peering over her shoulder as she worked.
Karen’s cheeks were flushed, her shoulders tight, and her fingers flew over the keyboard faster than Athena had ever seen.
Bach pointed at her screen, murmuring something in a hush, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Detective,” she called suddenly, causing him to jump in his seat. “Flirt on your own time. We’ve a witness to interview.”
“Good work, agent,” he told Shoops as he rose, adjusting his tie. “See you later.”
Karen’s face deepened to crimson, but she never broke stride. “Thanks.”
“What?” Bach said innocently as he joined Athena in the hallway. “Did you know she can type ninety words per minute? And she makes connections and intuitive leaps just as fast.”
“She’s efficient. Now, stop distracting my agent.” Her heels clipped across the tiles, halting outside the interview room. She pivoted to Bach, scrutinizing him with her stare. “So. Did you make a coffee date?”
A befuddled expression crossed the hard-nosed detective’s features for an instant before he reined it in.
He swallowed and straightened. “She likes to stop at Bean Theory on her way to work in the mornings. I said I’d like to try their brew, since it’s less expensive than Starbucks.
No dates, but we could bump into each other tomorrow. ”
Athena smirked at him and pushed open the door.
A Black man in his mid-forties occupied the opposite chair, dressed in a blue suit, white shirt, and striped tie, glasses perched on his nose.
A thin fellow, probably taller than Bach, he seemed neat, fastidious, and intelligent, all screaming “accountant.”
At their entrance, he lifted his chin. “When will I be able to get into my office to see what can be salvaged?”
“When the authorities deem it safe, Mr. Ellis. I’m Assistant Special Agent in Charge Bouvier, and this is HPD Detective Bach.” She glided into her seat, followed by Bach. “We’d like to talk about your work today.”
He nudged his glasses, ran a thumb down his nose, then folded his hands on the table impassively. “What would you like to know?”
“First, you should know that our tech team is having difficulty retrieving any of Gulf Allied’s financial records,” Bach said. “This is the twenty-first century. Why doesn’t your office have a cloud service?”
Tyson Ellis let out a withering sigh, his shoulders slumping.
“Because Mr. Whitmore, our company CEO, still lives in the Dark Ages. I don’t think he’s implemented a single upgrade since 2012.
Mr. Booker finally got so disgusted that he found a good sale and bought the office five modern computers and monitors two years ago.
Our copy machine, held together by duct tape and luck, is a dinosaur.
At least we have good internet service, or we wouldn’t be able to function at all. ”
“Mr. Ellis, were all of your records kept on the office computer?” Athena asked.
He jutted up his chin and sniffed. “Certainly, you jest? I kept a leather-bound ledger with every transaction entered by hand. Mr. Whitmore doesn’t care for staring at computer screens. At the end of the fiscal year, I had to turn over the ledger to him for approval.”
Hope sprang in Athena’s chest. “Do you still have it?”
Lowering his gaze, Ellis wiped a hand across his mouth. “It was locked in a drawer in the accounting office adjacent to the main office. Probably burned to a crisp.”
Maybe the forensic team can salvage some pages, Athena thought.
“Then, for now,” Bach said, “we need to rely on your memory, which I trust is exceptional.”
Appearing uncomfortable, Ellis repositioned himself in his chair as his mouth drew into a frown. “I don’t like to guess.”
“I’m sure you don’t,” Athena agreed. “However, other employees we’ve interviewed have mentioned seeing certain discrepancies in expenditures compared to profits.”
“Well, I can attest that the Houston Gulf Allied Chemicals plant was generating a profit,” he stated with confidence.
“However, not as large a one as we would have liked. Expenses are on the rise. Diesel fuel for our delivery trucks, for example, has risen by nearly 30% over the past year. Ridiculous. And some repairs must be made, or production will halt.”
“Did the numbers you entered into your ledger ever seem too far off?” Bach asked. “Did they ever seem … suspicious?”
“You mean like, did I believe someone was skimming from the till?” His brows rose, and he let out a breath. “It’s not my place to levy accusations.”
Bingo, Athena thought. Booker’s trying to keep the plant afloat, and Whitmore is siphoning off funds for a vacation villa on the Riviera. She reconsidered. Unless it’s someone in the office. A spy for Lone Star? A disgruntled or indebted employee? Booker?
Still, if someone were doctoring the finances, keeping a little extra for himself, what would that have to do with Nolan’s murder or the bomb? Could Nolan have discovered that the numbers didn’t add up?
“It is your job to ensure the bookkeeping is perfect in case you’re audited by the IRS,” Bach declared. “And given your company’s track record of safety and environmental violations, it will happen sooner or later. Did you make any ‘corrections’ to your ledger so everything would look hunky-dory?”
Ellis presented Bach with a cool expression and adjusted his glasses.
“Well, to the best of my recollection, everything balanced out in the end. Of course, we’ll never know, since all the records were lost in the fire.
” Then an irritated grimace marred his calm exterior, and he grumbled. “Now I have to start over.”
The background check they’d run on Tyson Ellis turned up no ethical or financial red flags.
He was an active member of the Brookhollow nondenominational church, had one marriage and two children, and held a master’s in accounting from UT Austin.
He donated to the BakerRipley 1907 Giving Society and occasionally volunteered with several of their youth programs. Still, his livelihood depended on Gulf Allied Chemicals’ success.
Would he have covered up embezzlement to save his job and reputation?
Athena suspected it depended on how long it had been going on and when he first became aware of it.
“Take heart, Mr. Ellis,” Athena said cheerily.
“Perhaps our lab can recover the bulk of your records from the damaged ledger book. Those leather bindings can really protect the pages inside. We’re asking that you not leave the county, as we’ll likely have more questions for you once the book has been analyzed. ”
Ellis left, and Bach strolled with Athena back toward the bullpen. “I wonder where Mr. Booker got the money to buy the office new computers?” he asked.
Athena smirked. “I have a pretty good idea, but we have to prove it.”
Athena’s apartment was cold and empty when she arrived that night. How did I spend so many years thinking this was OK, that it was normal? she wondered and turned on the TV.
“The winter storm is expected to arrive tomorrow evening,” the anchorman reported.
Images of cars lined up at gas stations and empty supermarket shelves flashed across the screen.
“School will be in session tomorrow, but here’s a list of announced closings across the city for Wednesday.
” The names scrolled in a never-ending column.
Athena sank onto the sofa with a sigh and opened her phone to place a delivery order.
“Now over to meteorologist Melody Palmer to tell you what to expect.”
Athena switched off the screen. Enough, already.
After placing her food order, she checked her texts—again. Nothing. Flash must be swamped with calls today, she thought. Athena punched in Cam’s number.
“Hey there, A.” Her friend’s bright tenor voice rang in her ear. “Listen, what are you doing next Saturday? The gang wants to try out this new Asian fusion restaurant. You can bring your eye-candy if you want.”
Athena let go of the day’s tension and laughed, shaking her head. “You know I can’t plan that far ahead. I’ll let you know the morning of. And don’t let Flash hear you call her ‘eye-candy.’”
“Well, she is,” Cam responded in a factual tone. “But then, you are too. What a pair—hunky Ms. March and a glamorous femme stunner. There’s a power couple if I ever saw one. What d’ya need, kiddo?”
Gravity descended on Athena, and she lay back, putting her feet up. “I need to come up with a Valentine’s gift for Flash. Problem is, we’re about to be snowed in.”
“Yeah, bummer. Hey! Why don’t you ask her to marry you?”
Athena balked. “Are you crazy? I’m not ever getting married again.
You know what happened the first time. There’s no way I’m going to try identifying Flash by the bits and pieces they scrape up off the pavement.
” Terror ripped through her as she recalled twenty-some-odd years ago when she was informed a car bomb had killed her husband.
Flash would never be involved with criminals like Timothy had been, but FBI agents made powerful enemies. If one came after Flash as payback for something Athena had done …
“Ok, I’m sorry,” Cam said. “But really? You’re still so affected by something that happened decades ago that you won’t even consider marriage? I know you love her.”
“I do,” Athena confirmed. “And that’s why.
On a chronological timeline, it might have been decades ago, but sometimes it feels like yesterday.
God, Cam, I’m really stupid. I let myself fall so deep in love with this woman that …
I can’t. I just can’t go through that again—especially if something happens to her because of me. ”
“Does she get a say in it?”
“No.”
“How equitable of you,” Cam muttered. “You know, the two of you aren’t exactly a secret anymore. If some bad guy does his homework, he’ll know what button to push even without a marriage license on file.”
“Not making it better,” Athena ground out through clenched teeth. “I should have broken it off months ago, but I was selfish. She just makes me so dadgum happy. So here we are, and I don’t know what’s an appropriate gift at this point in our relationship.”
“Forget about that,” Cam said in a dismissive voice. “Just get her something she’ll like that expresses how you feel. I was going to say an engagement ring, but I fear for my life.”
“I can’t push things too far too fast, Cam, or I’ll scare her away. I thought you’d know what butch women like.”
“Oh, you mean like an accessory for her motorcycle, or a new video game, or some Doc Martens? A new tattoo, maybe?” Her tone sounded mocking.
“Honey, stop trying to generalize. You talk to her every day, share her bed whenever you can. Stop thinking of her as the butch firefighter and imagine what your lover, Flash, likes.”
“She loves her dog,” Athena said, “her loft, her friends. Music, games, doing athletic stuff.”
“You mean like hiking, white-water rafting, rock climbing, axe throwing, and all that?”
“Yeah—things I suck at. I couldn’t take her on one of those adventures,” Athena complained. “I’d end up riding home in an ambulance.”
“There’s this indoor rock-climbing place,” Cam said. “They have safety harnesses and instructors, beginner courses—and more advanced challenges. I’ll bet she’d love to show off for you, and she’d be so proud of you for trying it. Doesn’t she engage in activities you enjoy to please you?”
Athena thought for a moment. One day they’d rented bicycles and ridden the whole Buffalo Bayou Park Trail.
Despite Flash setting a leisurely pace, Athena had needed to stop and rest several times.
It had been a gorgeous day, and then they’d visited the Downtown Aquarium.
The next day, Athena could hardly get out of bed, and her muscles had been sore for nearly a week.
It’s because I’m out of shape, she thought.
Flash didn’t mention it, but afterward always suggested more sedentary activities, like going to shows and concerts.
She was always so eager to please Athena and operate within her comfort zone.
“Yeah. You know what I should do,” Athena proposed.
“I should join a gym or a yoga class or something to get in better shape. I’m not that old, not ready for a walker.
When I first joined the Bureau, I worked out all the time.
It hasn’t been until this last promotion, when I spend most of my time in the office, that I’ve not had the need, or the time, to stay in shape.
I should challenge myself to do things Flash likes.
I’ve probably avoided it because I know I can’t keep up, much less compete.
It’s time to swallow my ego and think about her.
Indoor rock climbing? Safety harnesses?”
“Yep!”
She could feel Cam’s grin.
Waiting for her food to arrive, Athena thought about their conversation and her own desire to move in together with Flash.
Would that place her in a kingpin’s crosshairs as much as marriage would?
She’d just helped shut down a multimillion-dollar smuggling ring, locking up most of the operators.
Would they have associates or relatives looking for payback?
Am I more of a danger to Flash than the fires she fights?
The thought bounced around inside her like a lone cue ball off every bumper on the table.